Worries
by HappyBlushCalayapie
Summary: Out of nowhere, Dean is even more depressed than usual. He claims to not know the reason, but in the end, Castiel knows better. Destiel oneshot.


Title: Worries  
TV Show: Supernatural  
Pairing: Destiel

(I'm in season 7, and this is my first fanfic for Supernatural. It's not set anywhere in the series, really. I hope you like it. I hope it's not too bad…)

Dean sat at the tiny hotel tab drinking alcohol. He put down the bottle after a long drink, and grumbled to himself,

"Just kill me now."

Overhearing him, Sam said, "What's your problem?"

"Don't wanna talk about it. Life's a bitch." A took another drink.

"Couldn't be worse than any of the things we've already been through." Sam said. He was clearing away some papers and books nearby his laptop.

"It can. It will. It is." Dean leaned on his right elbow.

"I doubt that. We've been to hell, we've lost family, we've been cursed, we've been possessed… It _couldn't_ be worse."

"Well, you sure are thinking of the bright side in things. There's no bright side here, anymore."

"Is it just life in general?"

"Damn, I wish it were. It'd be much more simple." He took another drink.

"Wanna talk?"

"I already said no, Sammy."

"You _must_ want to… grumbling aloud like that."

"It's embarrassing as hell, and it's making me miserable. More like, I don't know where these thoughts even came from…"

"What kinds of thoughts?"

"Keeping that part to myself. It _literally_ came out of nowhere… just now."

"Do you feel possessed?"

"I wish it were that simple." Sam gave him a look. He obviously didn't like that answer. "Sorry… forgot for a sec how hard being possessed was. Didn't mean it like that." Sam's look softened from the apology and he let his momentary anger go.

"Is there anyone you'd talk to about it? Like Cas?"

"_Lord_, no."

"Is it something you don't want him to know?"

"I'd rather _nobody_ know, actually." He took a swig.

"…Is it about Cas?"

"…" what could he say in reply? "Bitch."

"Jerk. Must be about him since you had that kind of reaction."

'Crap.' Dean thought. "The thoughts and sudden bizarre feelings came from thin air. For real. I don't know what happened. I'm unbareabley, con-freakin'-fused—"

Suddenly, Castiel appeared in the room.

"Hello, Dean." Dean jumped a little bit, not because he was talking about him, but because his appearance was unexpected.

"Dammit, Cas! Don't do that! Scared the hell out of me…" he dunked the rest of his beer. "I need another one…" he mumbled, walking to the fridge.

"My name was said more than once. I came to see if I was needed." Castiel said.

"Sorry, Cas. You just appeared in the conversation, that's all." Sam said. "We've got a third chair. Sit with us." He saw Dean coming back with a few more beers. "Those for us?"

"These? No, I had no intention to share." He sat down and opened one of them, then put it to his lips and drank. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him. He's a brat." Dean eventually stopped drinking it, and observed the bottle as if drinking it helped him pour his secrets out to it in his mind. "He's also probably drunk by now. I'm not sure how many he's drank today."

Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder and said, "Whatever is wrong, you don't have to be worried about it."

"Could tell?" Dean said, not looking at him and resting his chin on both of his arms, laying close to the table.

"I could see it in your eyes. You seem very distressed."

"How would _you_ feel if a sudden wave of feelings hit you all of a sudden like a punch in a gut? Or like some chick PMSing or some random bitch crap… or like some fifty-year-old getting a heat flash…"

"You sick, bro?" Sam asked.

"I don't have any words for what's happening to me. I guess one thing I could say is that I could dress up in a tutu, cry all day, beg for money, dance for some strangers, put a gun to my head and play Russian Roulette, cuss everyone I hate out, and still not give a damn about what anyone thought."

"That's a load of crap, Dean. You care about our opinion of you, so you're not telling us what's wrong." Sam said.

"Just a thousand feelings in me. Making me wanna puke."

"That might be the thousand beers you drank." Suddenly, Dean's eyes widened and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. "He'll feel better in a minute. He usually doesn't drink until he throws up, though. I'm really worried."

"When did this start?" the angel asked.

"A few minutes ago, actually. He won't tell me, and he said he _really_ doesn't want to tell you. I don't know whether I should put stock in this, or not, but… it might be about you since he _really_ wanted to leave you out of this. He really is a piece of work…" Dean walked back into the room after her brushed his teeth to get rid of the taste. "Mark the one you drank from with your name, and put all those back. You've had enough. Talk to us."

"Like this is some sort of girls group where we're all gonna hug, cry, and les out? Pssh. You must think I'm some sort of moron."

"At least put the beers away. You'll vomit again if you start drinking more of those. You might even be getting alcohol poisoning."

"Fine. I'll put them away, but I won't talk." Dean put them away, came back, and sat down.

"I could take away whatever is causing you're distress, Dean." Castiel said, serious as always.

"How?"

"I could make whatever is troubling you disappear."

"Like… as in, if it were a person, they'd literally disappear?"

"That is correct."

"Don't do that! I can't lose anymore people!"

"Who is troubling you?"

"…That's not for me to say."

"Who could say?" Sam asked.

"Only me."

"You're troubling yourself?" the angel said, getting confused.

"_No_, that's not what I meant!" Dean was getting frustrated. He closed his eyes and leaned on his left hand, feeling like he had a headache, and not just from the beer. Castiel touched his head, secretly searching his memories for clues as to what was on Dean's mind today. He could only see memories of him and Dean, as well as ideas between the two that had been created from these new emotions. It was possible that Dean was started to think of Castiel as more than a friend.

The angel's face hadn't changed as he said, "I assure you that whatever these feelings of yours are, or even if they are just a phase, I can tell you that there isn't anything wrong with them, and you need not worry anymore." Dean looked up. His green eyes met Cas's blue ones. The angel had always been fearless when it came to eye contact with anyone, but it was different this time. Dean could see that those pretty blue eyes ere softened looking at him, even if he retained the same expression as always. Cas stood up, slowly withdrew his hand from Dean's head, and started walking away from him as he disappeared. Dean stared off inn that direction, bewildered.

"Dean? You okay?" Sam asked.

Dean turned to him and smiled, feeling relieved somehow.

"Yeah. I'm definitely alright."

**END**


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